


It Might Suck Bollocks

by Kirito_Potter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Awkward Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirito_Potter/pseuds/Kirito_Potter
Summary: He moves his hand a bit lower, sliding it under the waistband of my trousers, and I moan encouragingly into his mouth. He gasps a little, and when he pushes his body closer I feel something press against my thigh.I pull back, panting, and he looks a little paler. I can't tell if he's panicking or if it's because the blood is rushing south. Maybe both.





	It Might Suck Bollocks

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written smut before so uhhhhh fair warning

**Simon**

Baz's tongue is as cold as the rest of him, and it's kind of trippy to have it in my mouth. But a good trippy. And I'm starting to get used to it, with how often we make out now. It helps that Fiona is out for the week, which means Baz's flat is empty. We've caught up on a lot of making out since she left. (Always in Baz's room, of course. We're not complete degenerates.)

He moves his hand a bit lower, sliding it under the waistband of my trousers, and I moan encouragingly into his mouth. He gasps a little, and when he pushes his body closer I feel something press against my thigh.

I pull back, panting, and he looks a little paler. I can't tell if he's panicking or if it's because the blood is rushing south. Maybe both.

“Baz,” I start, with no clue how I'm going to finish. “I…”

“It's okay,” he says quickly. “We can take a break.”

“No.”

He swallows. “No?”

I bite my lip. “I… Baz, I want to go down on you.” I didn't know I wanted to until I said it, but now I do and I'm sure.

His eyes go wide, and for once he doesn't try to mask his emotions with disinterest (On the contrary, he seems plenty interested). “You… are you serious?”

I nod, then hesitate. “I do want to. But you should know that I've never…”

“Given someone a blowjob?” He asks, laughing. “Considering you've never been interested in blokes before me, I figured.”

“Well, yeah,” I concede. “But I meant I've never…”

“Oh.”

I squirm under his gaze. “Making out with you is the furthest I've gone with someone.”

He smiles, the way he does for me. “And you want that? With me?”

I nod carefully. “Like I said, I've never done anything like that, so it might suck bollocks.”

He snorts, and I realise the mistake in my word choice.

“Ah-- that's not what I--”

“I know,” he snickers.

“I just… I want to try.” I set my jaw. “I want to make you feel good.”

He thinks for a moment. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I want to.” I'm not usually so level headed about things.

Baz looks excited, but also worried. “How about… how about I reciprocate?”

I frown. “What?”

“I could… return the favor.”

I shake my head. “It's not a favor to return. I want to do this for you.”

“Well, at least let me give you a handjob after, then. I want you to enjoy this, too.” His eyes are so soft.

I consider the offer. “That sounds pretty good,” I admit.

He nods. “Right.” He takes a deep breath. “Should we… stay on the bed?”

Taking his hand, I pull him to the wall, gently pushing his back to it. “Here,” I say.

He brushes a curl from my eyes, and I swear he's in another world for a moment. “I love you.”

I grin. “I love you too.”

I press a kiss to his lips, then steel myself. I kneel.

He shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot, and I glance up at him.

“Is this okay?”

He nods.

I turn my attention to the button on his jeans. I work it open, sliding down the zipper with a quiet hiss of metal. It sounds like a mischievous promise of things to come.

Baz reaches to pull his jeans all the way down, but I stop him before they can fall below his thighs.

“Leave them on,” I request. “I like the way you look in them.”

He complies, letting his hands fall to his sides.

I close my eyes for a moment. Last moment of not knowing.

I pull down the band of his pants.

It's monstrous, longer than mine. I'm actually intimidated for a moment. Can I do this?

But then I look up at Baz. He's looking at me like he wishes he were the one on his knees, not to pull off my trousers but to worship me.

I'm filled with courage, and I start before I can change my mind.

 

**Baz**

_ Merlin. _

It's hot and wet and kind of terrible. But it's Simon.

He's on his knees, just kind of there. He won't move his head or his mouth. And yet it feels so… but I can't just stand here and let him be a walking disaster. (Kneeling disaster.)

“Simon,” I breathe. It would be a bit too much to call him Snow right now. When he's got his mouth on my dick.

And he looks up. He's gorgeous. Staring up at me through his lashes, face flushed. Lips stretched around my cock. Waiting for orders.

Fuck. I think I'm going to--

I squeeze my eyes shut and ground myself, taking deep breaths. I don't think Simon would let me live it down if I came before he'd even done anything. (Great Snakes, I don't think _ I _ would let me live it down.)

When I trust myself enough, I look again. He's still waiting. I shudder a little.

He tries to grin, but it's difficult when his lips are preoccupied.

“What's so funny?” I grunt, flushing.

He looks ready to answer around the length of it, then remembers that his mouth is full. It seems like he still hasn't grasped the details of what it means to suck someone off.

He pulls back, and I have stop myself from groaning at the pop his mouth makes. He smiles at me again, and his lips are so wet.

“What's so funny?” I ask again, but my voice is shaky and quiet.

“I did that to you,” he replies teasingly. “I made you all… excited. I did that.”

I grit my teeth. “Because it's you, not because it's good.”

He looks confused. “What?”

“You're awful at this.”

He's crestfallen. “Oh. I thought I was doing okay.”

I snort. “Merlin, Snow. If someone put your dick in their mouth and just sat there, would it feel very good?”

He seems to understand now. “I didn't really know what else to do.”

I cover my mouth. I feel bad laughing at him. “You're the one that offered.”

He scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told you I've never done this before.”

I can't help but smile. “Listen, you absolute numpty.” He knows I don't mean it. “Just experiment a bit, and I'll let you know what's good.”

He licks his lips, eyebrows pulling together in concentration. “Yeah. Okay.”

And just like that he's back, and I groan into my hand. He moves slowly, but slowly is already much better than nothing. His hold on my hips shifts incrementally as he pushes forward. After what feels like an eternity, he stops, nearly at the base. I glance down, and he looks frustrated.

“You don't…” I clear my throat. “You don't have to take all of it. That's not the point.”

He hums in what I think is supposed to be understanding, but all I can register is the vibration.

He moves one of his hands from my hip and hesitates before wrapping it around the last bit that he can't get to with his mouth. He screws up his eyebrows again, and I recognise the expression as the same one he used to make when he was taking an exam. Carefully, he starts using his hand, trying to move his head along the shaft at the same time. It's a bit clumsy, like everything he does, but it's somehow also nice. He starts doing that thing with his jaw, and I'm sure it's because he knows I like it when we're kissing. It's somehow better now.

I don't know when it happened, but my hand is in his hair. I tug lightly, and his eyes fall closed. He pulls his head back some, until just he's got just the tip. I thread my fingers through his curls, trying to find something to keep me sane. He moves his mouth, and instead of pushing further down my length, he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses over the head, wet and sloppy, like he thinks we're still making out.

I sigh, letting my head fall back against the wall. Everything about this is unconventional, but I love him for it. It’s a little strange, actually-- any time I imagined Simon going down on me (and I’d imagined it a lot), he knew what he was doing, moving with purpose and grace, giving me the right look at the right time, touching me like he’d memorised every inch of me. That probably had to do with the fact that I did know what I was doing, and it was my hand doing the real work. But now, Simon-- the real Simon-- is uncoordinated, confused, new to everything. And it’s terrible. But it’s also fantastic.

He flicks his tongue over the tip, and I make an embarrassing sound. He's licking, slowly and carefully, pressing the breadth of his tongue flat against the slit there. He moans.

 

**Simon**

Fuck. Why does this taste good? He's leaking a bit, and it's salty, but also  _ intoxicating _ . Is that a vampire thing? Maybe it's just a bloke thing. Either way, I can't stop myself from licking at his head again to get another taste.

I suppose this means I have an oral fixation or something. After all, having his dick in my mouth feels… really good. Soft and hard at the same time. Cold, like the rest of him, but warmer than his hands (which makes sense, since the little blood in him is all gathered here). What defines an oral fixation, anyhow? I'm always chewing on my fingernails, and magic knows I eat anything in front of me. Does that have anything to do with how good this feels?

Merlin, why am I  _ thinking _ , now of all times? I just want to focus on this. On him. On the rough texture of his jeans on one palm. On the smooth texture of his cock on my other. On that salty flavour. Yes. For once, I  _ want _ my mind to be empty. For him. For me. For this.

 

**Baz**

He's still moaning, licking almost frantically, and I have to stop myself from gaping. Is he really enjoying having a cock in his mouth this much?

“Do you… like this?” I ask. My voice is shaky.

His eyes fly open, and he looks up at me, nodding as best he can. Merlin, he's so eager. He's not even trying to be subtle about it.

Still looking at me, he presses his tongue to my tip again. I groan, tugging his hair again. He's been doing that for a few minutes-- licking there, like he's got something to prove.

He's not going to be able to answer more than a yes or no. “Do you like-- uh-- do you like…” I flush a bit. How do I even word this? “The taste.”

He moans appreciatively, nodding again. And if that's not the most arousing thing… Simon Snow likes the taste of my cock. He's desperate for it. He's turned on, when it's me getting a blowjob.

 

**Simon**

Oh, right. I should probably move on, as good as this is. I doubt he'll get off anytime soon if I'm just licking him. (Maybe he will. I might have to experiment with that another time.)

I sigh and give him one last lick, long and slow, down his entire shaft then back up to lap up a final drop of precome. He groans again, pulling my hair.

I take his head back into my mouth properly now. Time for some more experimenting.

 

**Baz**

He's no expert by any definition, but I have to admit that the way he's bobbing his head has me reeling.

He pushes forward, trying again for the base. At first, he isn't able to reach like last time, but now he goes just a bit farther, and I just barely feel the brush of the back of his throat. I tug his hair to pull him off, expect him to gag, but this time he fights my hand. He pushes forward again.

Aleister Crowley. Don't tell me he doesn't have a gag reflex? Not possible. He's already so perfect. But that must be the case, because he's not backing down. If I thought it was good before…

I take a shaky breath and focus on keeping my hips steady. I know that the second I let myself rock into his mouth, I won't be able to control myself. Gag reflex or not, facefucking is a different affair from a blowjob, one I'm not sure he's ready for. (I'll have to ask him next time, beforehand, when he's got a clear enough head to make that decision.)

Now that he's managed to get all of my cock in his mouth, his nose is nestled in the crook of my pelvis. That bit of contact shouldn't turn me on, but the spot where we touch burns hot like a star exploding. If I weren't clean shaven, he'd be nosing into my pubes. Somehow, that sounds hot. Should I stop shaving there, just to see what it would be like? Only Simon can make me consider rash decisions like that with the tiniest of miracles.

He's had his hand pressed on my stomach ever since he managed to deepthroat me, since he doesn't need it to manage what he couldn't reach anymore. Now he slides his hand down, brushing where his lips meet my skin, goes lower still, and gives my bollocks a squeeze.

“Fuck,” I gasp, eyes flying open, and my hips stutter.

He takes a moment to recover, and I wince apologetically. At least I'd stopped myself from doing it again.

And then he swallows around me, and I'm flung even higher into heaven.

Merlin and Morgana and Methuselah and Crowley and Carroll and every other mage I can think of, how is he real? How can he be so crude and unsure but also feel incredible and look sexy as hell? When we'd started, I thought he would be absolutely clueless. And he kind of is, but he's also kind of a natural. I'd question whether he was lying about never giving head before if not for the awkward way he grips my bollocks or the way he shifts his weight because he has no experience with kneeling this long. This is all happening in the heat of the moment, not rehearsed or thought out but because this is what he wants here and now.

It's magickal.

I'm snapped back to reality by a second swallow, then a third, then a fourth. I moan loudly, completely undignified and not caring. He's bloody brilliant.

“Simon,” I groan. “Merlin, I love you so much.”

He does gag now, and I see his cheeks flush. He looks up at me smiling again.  _ I love you too. _ He's said it so many times I can practically hear it from his expression.

Almost immediately, he's back at his impossible pace, swallowing again and again. He moves his hand away from my bollocks, touching the inside of my thigh where I'm most sensitive. He presses his fingers there just as I feel him lap at the tip of my cock again, and my vision goes blurry.

“Simon,” I gasp out again. “Simon, I-- I can't--”

He licks at it again, looking up at me expectantly.  _ Eagerly _ .

This must be how it feels to go off.

 

**Simon**

I'd thought his precome tasted good. This is on another level entirely. I do my best not to lose a drop.

 

**Baz**

When my vision clears, I faintly register the wobble in my knees. My hands are shaking, one in his hair and one pressed desperately against the wall for support. I meet his eyes.

He looks like the epitome of my sexual fantasies. Like the ultimate wet dream. His eyes are open, though half-lidded, but they're glazed over. He's flushed down his neck and to the tips of his ears. He looks utterly blissed out. There's come dribbling down his chin. I can see a bit in his hair, too. But most importantly, he's clearly swallowed what made it into his mouth. And he loved it.

He sits there for a moment, basking in my afterglow, then pulls off with another lewdly wet pop. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his head. He reaches up to wipe off his face, and I grab his wrist without thinking.

“Baz?” His voice is low and raspy. Merlin.

I kneel in front of him, not caring that my cock is still hanging out of the front of my jeans. I lean forward and lick my own come off his face. Because I'm disturbed. He shudders a bit when I do it, though, so maybe he's disturbed too. I kiss him. His mouth tastes like my come (I've only just learned what that tastes like) and I lick and suck, still gripping a fistful of curls.

When I pull back, he somehow looks more orgasmic than before. Speaking of which.

“Baby?” I murmur. It feels nice to call him that. “Is it your turn now?”

He looks confused for a moment, then understanding washes over his features. “Oh. You mean-- the handjob?”

I nod carefully, smiling. After that, I would do anything for him. (Before that, too.)

He flushes a little and shakes his head.

“It's no problem,” I whisper. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He laughs. “That's great, but… I don't need it.” He smiles hesitantly, glancing down.

I follow his gaze. There's a distinct dark patch on the front of his trousers.

“Fucking hell,” I laugh, looking up again. “Liked sucking cock that much, did you?”

He looks embarrassed. But also proud. He should be proud.

“It was brilliant,” he admits. “I wish I'd thought of it sooner.”

I grin and kiss him again. When we pull apart, our foreheads stay pressed together.

“Simon.” I whisper. “I love you.”

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I love you too.”

 

**Simon**

I wonder if he'd be willing to go again.


End file.
